Mondays
by DragonBlood-Katana
Summary: Adam Parrish hates Mondays. Ronan Lynch just likes Adam's smile.


Adam couldn't help but storm into Physics. It was his last class of the day, he hadn't slept the night before, and he was in a foul mood. The entire day had been awful. First he had dropped his homework into a puddle and the paper had gotten so soaked by the time he managed to collect them that the ink had been smudged beyond legibility Then he had endured what felt like hundreds of questions about the purpling bruise that blossomed across the bridge of his nose and his cheekbone like a gruesome flower. Of all the days for his classmates to suddenly not ignore him, that particular day was the worst one they could have possibly chosen. And then, to top it all off, Adam had realized that he'd left his lunch at home, meaning he had to make it through the rest of his abnormally packed day on an emptier stomach than usual.

It was for reasons like these that Adam despised Mondays with the heat of a thousand flaming supernovas. Seriously, Mondays could shrivel up and burn in the deepest, darkest pits of hell as far as Adam was concerned.

All in all, Adam wasn't expecting Physics to go any better than the rest of the day had. He knew he was scowling and he knew he was only drawing more unwanted attention with his pissy mood, but he couldn't help it. He was his father's son, after all.

That thought only made his scowl deepen.

Adam almost wanted to cry when he heard that the assignment for the day was a partnered lab. Usually Adam could deal with group projects with no issue but it was a shittier-than-usual Monday and Adam did not want to deal with another person. He kept silent and stewed in his annoyance by himself, though. The Physics teacher already didn't like him – something about being too much of a pushover or some other bullshit to that effect – and the last thing Adam needed at the moment was to get a failing grade on a lab. That would more than likely set him off and Adam really couldn't afford to pay property damage if he lost control of his volatile temper.

Adam ended up paired with a dark-skinned boy with a shaved head and an apparent inability to correctly knot a tie. Adam thought his name was Ronan or something similar; Adam honestly didn't care. He just wanted to get the lab over with and get to his shift at Boyd's so he could maybe – hopefully – stop being tempted to snap at everyone who looked at him wrong.

Ronan wasn't an awful lab partner, at least. He seemed to know what he was doing to an extent. While Adam built the car they were supposed to use, Ronan played with the mouse trap that would power said car, so to speak. It wasn't the worst arrangement. Although Ronan was fairly cocky and kind of an idiot – no one would willingly juggle a mouse trap if they were able to comprehend the full risk of their actions – Ronan didn't say much and, blissfully, didn't ask about Adam's bruised face. He stared, yes, but he didn't make any inquiries as to its cause; Adam was grateful that he didn't have to bullshit his way out of another uncomfortably intrusive conversation.

Adam was able to work in relative peace for a few minutes; Ronan ruined it with a sharp snap from the mouse trap and a low, growled _fuck._ Adam looked up just in time to see Ronan pry the mouse trap from his finger. For a moment, Adam watched Ronan as he dropped the mouse trap on the table and nursed his probably-stinging finger sullenly.

Then Adam started to laugh.

There wasn't anything particularly humorous about the moment, but Adam laughed so hard that his eyes watered a little. Maybe it was just because the rest of his day had been such complete and utter crap that Adam needed the comic relief. Whatever the case, it took several moments for Adam to get himself under control. When his laughter finally petered out, Adam realized that not only was the classroom totally silent, everyone was staring at him with wide eyes and slack jaws. Even Ronan looked like he had been hit over the head.

Adam could feel his ears slowly turning an embarrassed shade of red. He didn't know why he was getting stared at. All he had done was laugh; what was so shocking about that?

Eventually the classroom filled with idle chatter as the rest of the students went back to work. Ronan continued to gawk, appearing rather shell-shocked. Adam was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable with the staring.

"What?"

The question came out sounding much sharper and more defensive than Adam had intended, but it seemed to do the trick. Ronan blinked once, twice, and then shut his mouth with a sharp click as his teeth slammed together.

"I—" Ronan started, but he shook his head and turned back to the mouse trap without any further response.

Over the course of the lab, Ronan's finger got caught a total of eleven more times in the mouse trap. Every time, Adam would snicker and Ronan would stare for a minute or two and they'd go back to their work. By the time class let out, Adam was well aware that Ronan was doing it on purpose, but he didn't know _why._ Either Ronan enjoyed the pain a little too much to be considered socially normal or he had wanted to make Adam laugh. As endearing as the latter would be, Adam was more inclined to believe the former. However, Adam did entertain a millisecond of imagination, picturing Ronan snapping his finger in that damned mouse trap over and over again purely because he liked Adam's smile. It was a cute thought that Adam basked in for a moment before letting it go.

Adam left Physics in a much better mood.

For the next few days, every time Adam saw Ronan, he would offer a small smile. Every time, Ronan tripped over air and stared in what almost seemed like awe after a thoroughly embarrassed Adam. It was flattering to know that he could fluster Ronan Lynch with nothing more than a smile.

Monday rolled around again and Adam felt like curling up in a corner and sobbing his eyes out. He was tired and he was sore and his bike had finally given in to its age and rust so Adam was sweaty and gross from his walk to school to boot. _Fuck Mondays,_ Adam thought viciously as he yanked open his locker door.

Adam was already so done with the day that he didn't noticed the piece of paper stuck to the locker door until it sliced along his knuckles and gave him a paper cut. Adam swore in frustration and put his bleeding knuckle to his mouth, a small defeated noise escaping him against his will. He seriously hated Mondays.

Once his knuckle had stopped bleeding, Adam looked up at the paper that had caused the cut. Taped to the locker sloppily, it was covered in a messy, nearly illegible scrawl that Adam didn't recognize. He had to squint a little to figure out what it said as he pulled it from his locker.

 _Your freckles are cute._

Adam's face flamed, but he smiled through his embarrassment. While it was a little unnerving that he had no idea who had written the note, Adam was glad for its baseless flattery. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath through his nose, forcing himself to relax. The sweet words settled in Adam's chest warmly and he let them give his ego a tiny but much-needed stroke on their way down. As shallow as it probably seemed, the small kindness of the note had refocused Adam and nearly completely dispelled his frustration. Re-centered and calm, Adam grabbed his books and headed to class.

For three months, Adam received a similar note every Monday, scribbled on a piece of paper torn from a notebook and taped hurriedly to the inside of Adam's locker door. It was sloppy on good days and nigh illegible every other day, but the effort that whoever wrote the notes put into giving Adam a confidence boost on his least favorite day of the week was endearing and appreciated.

Adam did wonder who it was. Clearly it was someone who either stalked Adam or shared a class or two with him. Adam chose to believe the latter situation; most stalkers didn't leave cute notes in their target's lockers on a weekly basis, as far as Adam knew. Adam also knew that it had to be a guy, since Aglionby was an all-boys school. Adam had thought he was far enough in the closet that people didn't know he was bi. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his sexuality – he had come to terms with it years ago – but Henrietta was a small town and he didn't want his father knowing. Even so, someone had clearly picked up on it. Or, if they hadn't, they were just incredibly intent on being nice to Adam.

Somehow Adam found the idea of someone wanting to date him more believable than someone wanting to make him happy. Neither was very realistic – Adam knew he was little more than a poser trying desperately to make his imagined self reality and he knew that he was beneath the notice of a fair portion of Aglionby's populace – but the latter was, at the very least, a bit sweeter to imagine on days that weren't Mondays and Adam felt like giving up anyway.

The notes varied in content, but every single one made Adam smile. They ranged from _your laugh is really pretty you should do it more often_ to things as simple as _you're doing great._ All of them left Adam with a warm weight in his chest and a tiny smile on his face and a fuzzy feeling in his veins. It was the best feeling in the world and Adam adored every second of it. He hadn't felt this light in _ages._

Ronan seemed to enjoy the aftermath, too, because Adam would walk into Latin every day with that tiny smile still in place and Ronan would face plant onto the desk with a tiny sound that was half-embarrassment and half-endearment. It was honestly one of the cutest things Adam had ever seen.

After another few weeks of this, Adam finally worked up the nerve to respond. On Friday afternoon just before he left for school, Adam taped his own scrap of paper to his locker door. It only read _thank you_ but Adam's nervous anticipation didn't lessen at all over the weekend. If anything, it got worse. By the time Monday came back around, Adam practically ran to school.

In his locker was a note as usual. This one read: _you're really sweet and polite and I think it's adorable._

Adam very nearly died right there. He spent the rest of the day in a near-giddy haze, occasionally stifling a soft giggle behind his hand as he remembered the note. No one had ever called him _adorable_ before and it made him want to melt into an embarrassed puddle of flattered goop.

The cute little smile on Adam's face the whole day very nearly killed Ronan as well.

The week before spring break, Adam was anticipating that Monday's note. He wasn't looking forward to his two weeks around his father for extended periods of time and he needed the boost, honestly.

Instead of a note taped to the locker door, however, Adam found a shut mouse trap sitting neatly on top of his textbooks, a scrap of paper stuck beneath the metal bar. Adam felt his ears go bright red as he realized exactly who had been writing the notes for the last five and a half months.

Adam pried the paper out of the mouse trap, his fingers shaking a little as he did out of embarrassment. It took him three rereads of the note to fully comprehend what it said.

 _Hey, I know breaks kinda suck for you and I was wondering if maybe being my boyfriend would make things any better?_

Adam's locker wasn't even fully shut by the time he was halfway down the hall in the direction of his Latin classroom. There were three people there, two lone students in opposite corners of the room and Ronan Lynch, feet propped on his desk and his lip pinched nervously between his lips. When Adam burst into the room, all three of the Aglionby boys looked up and Ronan put his feet on the floor.

Adam just barely managed to get his _yes_ out of his mouth before his lips were mashed against Ronan's. For a moment, Ronan went still, then a rather high-pitched noise escaped him and he felt backwards onto the floor.

Adam couldn't help but laugh.


End file.
